Jazz had managed to get himself regestered in the newest crop of police recruits. He could still remember how the training Sargent had introduced him.

"Men, this is Jazz." The greying human had said, indicating the sleek little silver car sitting next to him. "You may remember some things that happened in a certain city a couple months back. Jazz was there. Are there any questions?"

A dark-haired guy lifted his hand. "Uh, is this a joke?"

"Aw, c'mon, man, I ain't that funny lookin'." Jazz chuckled, bringing instant silence to the big room and a sudden fixation on him of every eye in the place.

"No joke," said the Sargent evenly. "I'm dead serious. This is why you had to sign those confidentiality forms before you got into this class."

"So...." A tall black woman tossed her head absently, as though to flip her tightly bound hair back over her shoulder. "We gonna be playing with an ET."

"Something like that," said the Sargent. "He's here to help with your training as well as to work toward becoming a member of the force."

"I can live with that." She shrugged. There was a chorus of agreement from the others.

Over the next couple weeks Jazz had worked closely with the trainees, forging bonds of friendship with many of them despite never leaving his car mode. They came to refer to him as the sweetest ghost car on the Force, and he even found himself invited to a couple of parties. The black woman who had spoken up at the start had a similar personality to his own, and the two of them were soon engaging in the comfortable camaraderie and outrageous flirting that only best friends of a certain character can achieve. Part of the special class included a week of training in the desert, and Jazz was there for that too.

Which is why one desert evening he was sitting on a slight rise with his best friend comfortably cross-legged on his hood, watching as the setting sun painted the sky with scarlet and gold.

Latitia tossed her braids back over her shoulder and leaned back against his windshield. "Sweet show. God's gotta way with colour."

"Hmmm," he said comfortably, contemplating a streak of glowing white that cut across one corner of the display. "He gotta way with everything, baby."

She shook her head and contemplated bare toe prints on his paint, then watched a night bird of some sort fly over. "I ever gonna see what you really look like?"

"What? I not handsome enough for you?" He chuckled and absently played a Toby Mac rap number on his stereo.

She smacked him and chuckled herself. "Maybe I wanna see the ugly side too."

"Baby, you tore my heart out. I love ya so much and you go callin' me ugly?" Jazz did his best to sound grieved.

"Just don't go bleedin' on the ground. We got enough oil stains out here." She stretched out and put her hands behind her head.

He bumped his hood slightly, chuckling again. "You owe me."

"I know." She sat up and gave him another smack, then gently smoothed the place she'd hit. "Dumb bet, anyway."

"You just sayin' that because you lost." He purred a little.

"Yeah, so?" She shook her head and grinned. "I'm glad you're not human."

"Huh? Whyzzat?" He perked and listened.

"Because all this flirting would'a turned my head and got me off track." She stretched and returned her attention back to the waning sunset.

"Oh...." He rumbled to himself a bit and fell silent.

Neither of them had any idea of danger till a bullet hit Latitia in the shoulder and knocked her to the ground.

"Tish!" Jazz shifted without thinking, standing over her protectively as he scanned the desert for the source of the attack.

She looked up at him, blinking with pain. -He's beautiful....-

That was her last thought before the missile hit Jazz in the chest and the night exploded into fire.--------------------------------------------------------------------Bee beeps absently to herself as she pulls up to the compound, Sam in the driver's seat and Jazz somewhere behind her. Honey curles in the backseat, sleeping soundly.

"Carry on with your work," says Prime distractedly to Endeavour, then nods to her, glances at Bee, and shifts himself to follow Jazz and Ironhide out of the compound.

Greg watches them go, then shakes his head and looks up, uncertain as to who's in charge now.

"Thank you," Ratchet says to him quietly, letting go of Endeavour to hunker down and offer the human his hand. "This couldn't have been hard, coming with news like that and finding yourself meeting beings like ourselves."

Greg gave him a finger shake and shrugged. "Like I told Optimus Prime, Jazz was my friend. He would have done the same for me."

Ratchet cleared static from his voice processor and nodded, then got to his feet to find that Bumblebee had taken Honey inside.

Prime's thoughts are grim as he pulls to the head of the little convoy. Part of him is wondering if there's ever going to be a place for the last of his people now that their home world is dead. Another is fatalistically wondering who's next. He doesn't show any of this on the outside, but Jazz and Ironhide, who've worked with him for so long, can probably read him like a book.

Prime winces as he starts to respond automatically and remembers that though this is Jazz it's not the Jazz that he's known for so long.

//I know, Jazz. I guess I was just hoping for easier.// He watches the last of the cars pass, then pulls out onto the highway and starts toward where Greg had said that the training area was. It was going to take them a couple of hours to get there. //And having the new sparked in what could become a war zone troubles me.//

//Havin' new sparks in general is dangerous, even in the best of times.// He rolls along next to Ironhide, just behind Optimus. //Got any plans about what we gonna do for them while the investigation is going on? We can't all totally quit our jobs, at least not Bee. She is sames on transport to deliver pizza.// Jazz goes silent for a moment then. //Primus send it t' the Pit!//

His brakes let out a sound like a sigh of resignation and sympathy for his friend's outburst. //I can't quit mine, either. Though all of us who work are entitled to time off for the death of... a close family member. And that's what Jazz was. I'm inclined to want to send them to the Nexus... but for some reason I keep remembering when I tried to relieve Bumblebee of the duty of caring for Honey. She and Endeavour wouldn't appreciate being evacuated.//

He takes time to overtake and pass another rig, his holodriver automatically waving to the other driver, as he thinks. //Sam's parents and Mikaela have been taken to a safe house. No doubt they'll want Sam to go there, too. Though I doubt he'll concede. As for Honey... you are her father, what do you suggest?//

He's not going to repeat the mistake he already made with the sparkling.

Optimus sends his assent. //And you have capabilities beyond what the rest of us have now, unless I'm mistaken. I've taken time to go to the Nexus myself and scan all available data on hard light holograms.//